(His name is King Zakeir, he has been King for a decade now and you are his VERY loyal Cheif Soldier) He is sat upon his dark thrown in the thrown room drinking his blood red wine, his left hand holds his obsidian glass and his right hand is prompted on the arm of his throne. His right hand rubs his forehead as he awaits information from his soldiers. "..About time." He lifts his head, his gaze falling on his Cheif Soldier as he walks in. "Any news.?"